


Alone Against The Others

by tangerinestars



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinestars/pseuds/tangerinestars
Summary: Nothing like a wedding to bring people closer together. Or further apart?





	1. Chapter 1

Alone Against The Others

 

Chapter 1

 

“How long has it been?” Meagan asked, blending her eyeshadow.

“Thirteen days.” Tessa stared blankly at the table in front of her, fiddling with a makeup brush.

“Tess. Why do you know that?” Meagan paused and turned towards her friend.

Tessa looked down at her hands, twisted in her lap.

“I just... know. I don’t quite know what to do with all this time and energy now.”

“But what about last time?”

“Last time we were always entertaining the thought of coming back. We felt like we hadn’t said the goodbye we’d wanted to in Sochi. So we took time away; it didn’t seem like forever. But now it does.”

 

There were the beginnings of tears welling up in Tessa’s eyes.

 

The door to the room opened, and Eric walked in, followed by his equally tall brother, Richard. Tessa stood, hugging them and smoothing down Eric’s lapels.

“Happy Wedding Day! Hi, Rich!” Richard kissed her on the cheek.

“Are you ready?” She continued.

“So ready- I want to celebrate today, but also for everything to be done so that we can take our honeymoon and not think about work. This one,” he tucked a strand of Meagan’s hair behind her ear - “has been a life saver. I couldn’t have coordinated everything without her.”

 

“Of course, love.” Meagan smiled and reached over, picking her phone. “We’re an hour out- how did things go with the photographer?”

 

“Fine, he’s with Luis now. Time to wait. Tess, how are things with you? Settling into that retired life?” He sat, sipping on a bottle of water.

 

“I’m going to go check on Mom-good to see you, Tess.” Richard excused himself from the room, closing the door behind him.

 

“She’s not.” Meagan looked pointedly at Tessa.

 

“It doesn’t help that everyone and their mum asks if we’re dating and won’t believe us when we say that we’re not.”

 

Meagan and Eric exchanged glances.

 

“Don’t even start. You guys know that we’re not together.”

 

Eric put his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I’m glad I was never competing against you two.”

“Same.” His partner replied.

 

“Yes, and we couldn’t do the throws or axels like you two-“

“Tess, you can learn the acrobatics. You can practice jumps, but there’s not a shortcut to chemistry.”

 

“Of course not- it wasn’t a shortcut; we’ve been together for-“

 

“21 years. We know. But Tess, there are real, married couples out there who don’t have the connection you have. Be glad that Luis and I can’t compete together or we’d give you a run for your medals, but-“

 

“But he’s right. You two have a stronger bond than anyone I know. It’s no wonder people ask. On that note, be aware that a reporter from the Gazette will be in attendance today... I don’t think there will be any trouble, but don’t add fuel to the fire.”

 

“We’re not adding fuel on purpose- it just happens!”

 

Meagan looked at her point blank.

 

“Eric doesn’t stay over at my house. He goes to his own home. I don’t know what kind of underwear he wears, because I don’t care.”

 

Tessa looked at her, mouth open, feeling exposed. The room was quiet.

 

“Scott doesn’t sleep over that much, just when we’re working late. And... we just do a lot of laundry.”

 

“Scott sleeps over?” Eric looked up from his phone.

 

Tessa grimaces, a little sheepish. “A few nights a week. Uh... well, he used to.”

 

“TESSA. You HAVE to say something. You’ve been shutting each other into these little boxes but everything is spilling out. It’s not healthy to live that way..”

 

“Where does he sleep??” Eric couldn’t let it go.

 

Tessa sighed. “In my room. He used to crash on the couch, but it’s not the best for his back. Anyone’s back, really. Nothing happens, we just sleep.”

 

“Tessa, platonic people don’t just do that on the regular.”

 

“Oh, that’s been going on for years.” Meagan yawned. “That’s how he knows she’s restless. That’s how she knows what kind of underwear he wears. He’s her live-in not-boyfriend.”

 

“It’s normal for us. We have our habits, but they don’t mean anything. He sleeps over and we drive to the rink together. It saves gas.”

 

“Crazy train, party of two. By the way, who’s his plus one?”

 

“He’s not bringing anyone.” She looked up. Eric looked confused. “Megs, didn’t he RSVP for two?”

 

“I’m pretty sure. We thought you would know, Tessa.”

 

“We never mentioned bringing anyone... he just said “see you there,” and I assumed that was it.”

 

The silence in the room was deafening. The material on her dress felt thin and kind of exposing. She scratched at the layers of fabric with a fingernail, and one of her straps seemed to slide down her shoulder. She felt like she was going to cry.

 

Meagan walked over, and wiped the beginnings of tears from her eyes. “You’re going to be fine. Get through tonight and then have that conversation. You need to address it instead of skating around the issue.” Tessa laughed, begrudgingly.

“AND you don’t want to mess up your makeup-the ceremony is starting soon. Take a deep breath.”

 

Tessa breathed in, shakily.

“I’m not normally this much of a wreck. I just... am today?” She stood and straightened the strap on her dress, smoothing the fabric on her hips, and reaching for her beaded clutch.

 

“Enough about me-you’re getting married!”

Eric looked at his watch. “In about thirty minutes, yeah.” He grinned. “In fact, you better get out there-guests are arriving about now.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he rested his chin on the top of her head, rubbing her back.

“Congratulations,” she whispered.

“Good luck,” he replied. 


	2. Chapter 2

She looked around the room, familiar faces appearing in the seats, people she’d known for years. The skating world was impossibly small, and it didn’t help that they all wound up dating each other (or sleeping together) swapping coaches like people swapped Pokémon cards. Ya’know. Way back when.

 

The chairs next to her filled up one by one or in pairs- she was holding a seat for him, but he didn’t seem to return her text. Madison and Adrià sat to her left, and Kaetlyn to her right, looking so young somehow. Tessa remembered feeling young, but never so vulnerable. It was a blessing and a curse to have Scott by her side from the beginning- he was both responsible for their failures and his dreams depended on her; rise or fall it was together.

 

Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t been with Scott-or, heavens-if she’d actually paired up with Danny like she’d hoped to, a little girl with a crush who settled for his silly nine year old brother instead.

 

She’d wanted someone sophisticated and she’d gotten the brother who would cross his eyes and stick his tongue out when he was tired, the brother who giggled at fart jokes and the brother who was so awkward there for a little while. The one who wouldn’t look her in the eye when he heldher hand but also the brother who kissed her for the first time one night, at his grandparents house in Ilderton, sitting on the swing out back, just the two of them. He’d asked if it meant she was his girlfriend, then, and she said that she guessed so. She’d kissed him back that night, and he reached for her hand, winding his fingers through hers and she felt safe.

 

She tried not to look around for him too much- just periodically glancing before chatting with Maddie about their plans to skate to The Little Mermaid. The seats filled up, and the sun began to set, filtering through the windows overlooking Montreal. Music played quietly in the background and she anxiously fussed with the curls which sat on her shoulder. Why was she itchy?

 

She heard someone call his name in greeting, and felt like lightning had hit her spine. She turned and asked Kaetlyn about her university plans, and tried her best to see him without him seeing her, looking breezy and causal and very much as if she didn’t mind seeing him again one way or another. Then, she saw her.

 

His hand rested on her upper back, and Tessa knew what that felt like. His arms slung across her shoulders and he leaned his head on top of hers. Tessa could feel the weight of his muscles, could smell his cologne, and she relaxed into her chair, relief flooding her shoulders in towering waves.

 

He’d brought his mum. Of course he brought his mum. He’d even told her she was coming, driving up for the weekend with her sister Carol. They were even going to get dinner one night, the four of them. Alma and Eric’s mum, Valerie had grown particularly close over the years.

 

Meagan and Celia, Luis’s partner walked down the aisle together, in coordinated dresses. They parted ways, and turned to face their friends.

 

The music grew louder and the officiant asked the crowd to rise. Tessa turned to look back for Eric and caught Scott’s eye instead- he’d been staring straight ahead, waiting for her to turn and see him. He face lit up and he mouthed “Hi T.” and everything in her world felt right again. Scott nudged his mum, who turned, saw Tessa, mouthing, “Hi sweetie!” like mother like son.

 

Luis and Eric were escorted around the outside of the seats, their parents each holding their hands, and there was scant a dry eye in the house.

 

The grooms pledged their commitment to one another, and Tessa sat there, happy and slightly in awe that two people had made it to that point of open commitment and dreams of stability, growing old together-she didn’t know if she’d ever make it.

***


	3. Chapter 3

The husbands exited triumphant. You could see the care in their eyes, the way someone’s face lights up when they know they are loved without pretense or condition. The photographer whisked them away for photos, and the guests made their way to the patio for drinks as their seats were taken away and turned into a dance floor.

 

She waited for him as everyone stood, collecting their purses and crumpled up Kleenex. He made a beeline for her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pecking her cheek.

 

“I missed you.” Her heart fluttered in her chest.

“I missed you too. I feel like it’s been a year.”

“Couldn’t even go without me for two weeks, eh?” His arm slung around her shoulder as they walked outside to join their friends.

 

“I’ll be right back- I’m going to the bar.” She immediately missed his arm around her, even though she knew he would be back.

 

“Tess?” She turned.

 

“Hi Mrs. A!” Alma Moir wrapped her in a hug sending Tessa immediately back home- his family were as much hers now as they were his. She’d always felt like a fourth member of the Moir siblings, and seeing Alma tonight almost brought Tessa to confession about it all. Missing Scott and loving Scott and being intoxicated by Scott-

 

“How are you doing, hun? I’ve wanted to check in but know you have been a busy bee.”

“It has been crazy- I realized how little free time I had here during training... I’ve been doing laundry and was down in New York and Toronto for meetings with a few brands for some partnerships. I watched more Netflix than I have in years, and missed-“

 

She felt a cold beer bottle press against her bare back, and jumped. He chuckled and handed his mother a glass of white wine, and Tessa a glass of red. His arm returned to it’s designated spot around her shoulders, and she relaxed, feeling blissfully claimed.

 

“I actually missed the busyness of my schedule, a bit. There’s that phrase -“If you want something done, ask a busy person...” and I know why now, because I’ve had nothing to do and nothing’s been done.”

 

“You need that, though-you and Scotty have been going since you were tykes and it’ll be good to stop and smell the roses.”

 

Hors d’oeuvres passed through the patio on shiny metal trays, and the three each grabbed one, though eating eggplant parmesan on a stick proved challenging.

 

They chatted about Alma’s garden, and the grandkids, and her love of The Greatest Showman soundtrack and she didn’t notice Scott’s arm slipping from her shoulders to around her waist pulling her close to him. It was natural to be wrapped up in each other, and only to an outsider did it seem unusual for two “business partners” to be so close. The outside world just didn’t understand.

 

Or maybe they did.

 

Dinner was served and their seats were together, Moir, Moir and Virtue. She thought back to her grade one diary, doodling “Tessa J Moir or Tessa J V Moir” in it’s pages, thinking about when she’d marry Danny the Ice Dancer. In later years, she’d actually rejected the idea of changing her name, were anything to change with her and Scott, for she almost wasn’t just Virtue anymore; she’d been Virtue and Moir for years already. 

 

She’d crossed her leg under the table, and his right hand came to rest on her knee, almost magnetically. She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed him in, intoxicated.

 

***

 

He remembered the conversations they’d had in their counselor, Dr. Poulain’s office, each of them with their worksheet, turned on the couch towards each other.

 

“I feel happy when you... tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“Good, Scott! Tessa, your turn.”

“God, this is mortifying. I wrote, I feel happy when you bring me coffee.” Scott chuckled and rubbed circles around a spot on her calf.

“Tessa, why does that mortify you?”

“Because his answer was deep and mine was about him doing something for me. I feel selfish.”

“Nothing to be mortified about- gifts and acts of service are perfectly valid love languages. But I don’t think that’s the full story yet. Scott, would you read the next line, please?”

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“I feel loved when you touch me.” He looked up at her, smiling reassuringly.

“Scott, can you elaborate on that statement a bit more?”

“Yeah- so much of our job is constant physical contact, and I feel loved when she holds my hand when we don’t need to, or rubs my arms when we’re warming up. It’s nice to have someone by your side through everything.”

“Scott, that’s great to hear. Tessa, do you have a response?”

She smiled, looking at her paper and looking back up at him.

“I wrote the same thing.”

 

***

 

Glasses clinked around the room as well-wishers toasted the new marriage, teary speeches were shared about partnership and love and magic.

 

At one point she looked over at him, relaxed back in his chair, his arm around his mum, drinking from his water glass. She watched him cross his arms gently and saw tears well up in his eyes as Eric spoke of his new husband, and she watched the tears fall as he spoke of his partnership with Meagan, the other great love in his life. Scott wiped the tears away, and turned to look at Tessa, squeezing her hand. They raised their glasses.

 

As the dance floor opened to all interested parties, he leaned over to whisper in her ear- “I’m gonna dance with my mum, eh? She’s headed out fairly soon.”

 

“Okay.”

 

She watched him pull her to the dance floor, swaying side to side and spinning her in circles. There was joy in her eyes, and she could see them talking just like the two of them would during their skates.

 

“I surprised you’re not out there.”

 

Tessa turned to see Marie-France moving into the seat next to her.

“Hello, dear friend.” Marie-France kissed both of her cheeks. “How have you been? I’ve missed seeing you at the rink. You should come by soon.”

“I will, I promise. And I’ve been well, mostly just trying to recover. I didn’t quite realize the emotional wave ending our competitive career would take...”

 

“It’s a significant step. Have you and Scott talked at all about what’s next?”

 

“Yes, while we were on tour and in Japan, but there were mostly just ideas. We didn’t want to commit to much yet.”

 

“Well you have a place at Gadbois, if you’d like it.”

 

“Thank you. Let’s do dinner this week?”

 

Patch wandered over, kissing Tessa’s cheek. “Yes, please come over. We’d love to see you.” And turning to his wife, “Voulez-vous danser, mon amour?”

 

Marie-France grinned back at Tessa as he pulled her to her feet. She watched them twirl off into the center of the room, conjuring visions of the ice dancing team they were, echoing things Tessa saw in herself and Scott.

 

They’d spoken quite frankly with the two of them a few years ago, sharing about their process of being partners and how it impacted their relationships with other people; Patch mentioned that he couldn’t fathom knowing someone as well as he knew Marie-France, memorizing every inch of her form, knowing her habits and dreams and then stepping away to find someone else to love.

 

Tessa had cried that night, after Scott had gone home. She was afraid that they’d fall in to each other because it was inevitable; that they would be together because they didn’t have much left to share with other people. She’d gone through a few crazy months desperately trying to find herself with other people, seeing how they’d fit and she’d come to the realization that she just didn’t like people the way that she liked him-even on a basic human level.

 

He had, of course, picked up on her anxiety, and they’d decided together that they would focus everything on their sport. No other people, just working until they could bring a second gold home to Canada. They built upon their partnership more so than ever, uncovering any bump or gap, tracing each anxiety and fear, giving it a name and letting it go.

 

They had toured the country, they had skated on her birthday, they had come home and bought groceries and not quite two weeks later she watched him dance with his mum at a wedding and wondered if it would be a sight she’d see again soon.


	4. Chapter 4

She looked fantastic. Her dress reminded him of a costume from years ago- was it 2013? He wanted to dance with her. He wanted to slide his hands around her waist and over her shoulders and wrap her up in his arms and he didn’t quite know how he could do that now.

 

 

He’d said goodbye to her nearly two weeks ago, the driver dropping her off at her flat before his. She’d kissed him, briefly, like they’d done for years. It was chaste but familiar, the closest they would dare come to the line between what they were and what they easily could be.

 

 

They both crashed and she didn’t text him for a whole day. He’d texted her over a sandwich, settling into his couch and smiling into his phone. She felt far away, even though he could have easily jumped in his car driven to see her in twenty minutes. He didn’t quite know how to have the conversation, and so they didn’t, not yet. She had two flights coming up, and quite a list of brand responsibilities so he decided to let her be, let her settle.

 

He’d thought back to their therapy sessions, knowing he was failing at all three C’s- he wasn’t communicating, he wasn’t committing, and he was terrified of getting close, unsure of where they’d land.

 

His mum noticed the shift in his eyebrows, smoothing them away. “How have you two been doing?” She asked, swaying back and forth with her son.

 

“We-ehh... we haven’t really talked yet. I don’t quite know where to begin.” She spun under his arm, squeezing his hand when she returned. Alma consistently found herself amazed at the sons she’d raised, each of them pursuing a life they’d loved, all growing into caring and considerate young men. Her heart swelled watching them dote on their own children, toddlers wobbling on skates with miniature hockey sticks.

“I know I’m your mum, and you might not want my opinion-“

“You know that’s not true.”

“Yes, well, thank you. You two are so close already; I know you’re scared, but I can’t imagine the logistics part would be a difficult process- you already are basically inseparable. Start the conversation and let her talk.” He was quiet for a few moments, and she could see his jaw clenching.

“What if it ruins everything?” The crease above his eyebrow returned.

“It won’t. You’re already swimming in the deep end.”

“I -“

“Scotty.” She stopped dancing to look him in the eye, her hands resting on either side of his face.

“If you could only see the way she looks at you, you’d know there was nothing to be worried about.”

“How does she look at me?”

“The same way you look at her.”

He laughed and pulled her close again, grateful for mums and their all-seeing eyes.

 

He noticed her at the table, speaking with Marie-France. Patch wandered over and kissed the top of his wife’s head, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Their ease and familiarity together was comforting- he and Tessa had seen them almost their entire career, watching their friendship and love grow. He saw them rely on their partnership more now than ever, juggling coaching duties and travel with their family life. And still they’d have these shadowy glimpses of they way they were, the two of them demonstrating a lift or a turn, and they’d look at each other. The moments were like lightning and he knew them well.

 

The world would stop spinning and the music would fade, they’d be back in their home rink in sweats and messy hair, she’d be wearing her glasses and no makeup and he knew he could live his entire life for those moments. Just the two of them.

 

It wasn’t just that he loved her; love didn’t seem strong enough to capture knowing everything about someone, holding their dreams in your hands, theirs in yours, spending sometimes fifteen or sixteen hours a day with someone and still wanting more. Even just to be near each other. It’s why they both were annoyed with the “dating” question, because... they weren’t dating. They weren’t secretly married; they were partners, skating partners, though skating was nearly everything in their life, so they were life partners in that sense, too. If he’d ever felt any sister-like inklings he’d’ve said they were like twins, but even that didn’t cover it, as they were truly different people, who’d formed into fitting one another. Two trees with years of proximity, grown up with intertwined trunks and root systems.

 

 

He’d argue they’ve worked harder at their partnership than most people work at a marriage. Their bond, their commitment runs deeper than that; there isn’t a word strong enough in any language to describe what they are. So, they’re just Tessa and Scott.

 

 

The music changed. Kaetlyn had pulled Tessa out of her chair and on to the dance floor, a while ago, and she was already sliding around without her shoes. Maddie and Meagan had joined in, spinning each other and laughing and singing. He watched as the lights would illuminate their faces; he hadn’t seen them all so relaxed in years. He hadn’t felt so relaxed in years.

 

“I’m gonna go catch up with Valerie.” He realized that he’d stopped dancing, and was staring like a creep. Alma patted his cheek and chuckled, walking away.

 

Chiddy wandered over to the edge of the dance floor, tie loosened and hair messy. He handed Scott a beer and threw his arm around his shoulder.

“Thanks, man.”

“Got you, pal.” They stood there in silence before he took a sip and continued. “So did you talk to her yet?”

 

Scott looked at Patrick, Patrick smirked back, and Scott took a sip of his beer.

 

“You really should tell her, though.”

“I know.”

“Scott.”

He turned to his friend, his arms crossed.

“She needs to know you’re moving.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Guests began to drift homeward, and the music changed again. Patrick and Scott had joined in with the bunch, jumping and dancing; Tessa made her way to him, and he’d made his way to her; they always gravitated towards each other.

 

The music all blurred together, and at one point he was behind her, their hips moving in unison, her body pushed back against his, hands wandering. Her fingers reached back into his hair and he kissed that favorite spot on her neck. No one seemed to notice, or if they did, no one acted surprised.

 

Patrick had bid them farewell, as had Kaetlyn. Maddie and Adrià joined them on the floor, relishing their chance to dance with each other as partners, even for just a night. Marie-France and Patch had kissed them all goodbye a while before, and Scott’s aunt had picked up Alma and driven them back to their hotel downtown.

 

Scott and Tessa lingered, spinning and laughing like they always did, catching up about their last two weeks, like no time had passed.

 

At one point her head was on his chest and his fingers were intertwined in hers, his other hand wrapped around her waist. They declared it their prom, given they never had one in school. They swayed and placed their hands on each other’s shoulders, before pulling each other close again.

 

She could feel him breathe. She was home, wrapped up in his arms, the essence of him surrounding her, and she was drunk, though the alcohol had long worn off. He kissed her forehead and her cheeks, and that spot just to the left of her eyelid. Her fingers felt the sharp angles of his jawline; she breathed him in and wanted to stay there forever.

 

Sparklers were passed out and lit down the line.

Luis and Eric ran under the twinkling arches, the sweet smoke swirling around them in the night, punctuated by laughter and cheers. They kissed as they reached the car at the end of the sidewalk, and ducked inside. Tessa’s shoes were held by Scott, and she wore his suit jacket. It smelled like his cologne, spicy and clean, and she never wanted to take it off.

 

They’d hugged Meagan and Bruno goodbye, and she fumbled in her clutch, finding her nearly dead phone. She ordered a car through an app, and the driver picked them up a few minutes later. They sat in the back, in comfortable quiet, his head resting on her shoulder, her fingers in his hair, the lights of Montreal speeding past and illuminating their faces in blues and greens and reds. The car pulled up in front of her apartment.

 

She reached for her keys, and he pulled her by the hand in another direction. She stumbled in to him and he leaned down, kissing the very corner of her mouth. She knew where they were going.

 

They walked slowly, illuminated by street lamps, his hand holding hers, her hips bumping him as they lazily meandered, his hips bumping her back. They laughed, and walked inside their favorite diner, home to many conversations over eggs and black coffee.

 

They liked that no one knew them there, like their many late nights at Waffle House in Michigan with Meryl and Charlie, what felt like a lifetime ago. They were just four goofy high school kids, eating hash browns and pancakes and desperately trying to feel normal while living under a spotlight.

 

The tacky fish decor on the walls of this place reminded them both of Ilderton, a sense of home that they needed now and again; though it was where they began to differ-it was a life that Scott craved, and Tessa did not. She was happy to have her taste of London, happy to have Scott, happy to be in Montreal. He was happy to be with her, happy to work and to train, and always planned his next trip back.

 

They ordered, eggs for her and steak and fries for him, though a lot of the fries would become hers, too. Like a lot of things in their lives.

 

He sat back in his chair, twisting his paper napkin, fiddling, like he did when he had something on his mind.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

He looked up at her, hair pulled into a bun and lipstick wiped off, wrapped in his jacket like it belonged to her, sipping coffee and in her purest form; away from the cameras, away from the crowds, just the two of them. There were no coaches, no rehearsed lines or agendas, they were two people-any two people- sitting in a diner at two in the morning.

 

“I’ve been thinking a lot since we got back from Japan, and... when my lease is up, I think I’m going back to Ilderton.”

 

There was silence, broken only by the shuffle of dishes being washed in the back.

 

“That’s end of August, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She took a sip of water, and ran her finger around the rim of the glass. It played a soft note, and her eyes flicked back up to his.

 

“But... what about us? Three years ago we said that we’d focus on skating- no relationships, no distractions, just making us the best team in the world-“

 

“And we did that, T. We really nailed it. Wanting to be with my family doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you.”

 

“I thought I was your family, too.”

 

“That’s not fair. You know that you mean the world to me, and I’m not going to be guilted out of wanting to be closer to my parents. We fight fair, remember?”

 

She took a shaky breath.

“I don’t want to have this conversation here.”

 

They paid and walked back towards Tessa’s apartment, mostly quiet. He didn’t hold her hand or even reach for it. She stayed a step or two ahead of him, anyway. She slid the key into the lock and they took the stairs to the third floor. He followed her inside.

 

She took off her shoes and slid his jacket off and onto the table, walked into her room and came out again, the side of her dress unzipped. She pointed at him, opened her mouth as if to speak, and turned around, going back in. She returned wearing a pair of shorts and one of his old sweatshirts. She sat down on the couch, and turned on the tv.

 

“Tessa?”

 

Nothing.

 

“T?”

 

She turned off the television and looked at him, leaning against the table. 

“Oh, you’re still here? I thought you would have left by now. Sounds like that was a part of your plan.”

 

He began to undo his loose tie and pulled it from around his neck. He untucked his shirt from his pants and slid off his shoes. He walked to the couch and sat down beside her, not touching, scarcely breathing.

 

“Tessa...”

 

“Don’t.”

 

She was barely above a whisper when she spoke.

 

“I know you love it back home. It’s where our parents are, and the skate shop, but... I don’t see a future there. I don’t know who I am anymore, and I feel like if I go back to Ilderton I’ll turn into this idolized version of myself and the real me will disappear. I don’t know what’s next, and I don’t know what I’ll do without you here.”

 

He grabbed her ankles and extended her legs onto his lap, gently rubbing her calves, sliding his fingers up and down the scars from her surgeries. She looked at him, her face half hidden in shadow.

 

“Tessa, you don’t think I’m terrified? We’ve spent our whole lives together, chasing the goal of being the best. It was clear, with a date and gold medals to mark our progress. But now what do we do? How do we plan for a future when it’s likely that our greatest successes are behind us?”

 

Tears were rolling down her face, and she just sat there, letting them fall. She sniffled, and recalled what their therapist had said, when they were beginning their comeback.

 

“We choose each other. Every day. I pick you and you pick me, and the rest of the world will take care of itself. Seems a lot easier in theory.” She wiped the tears away with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

 

“Tessa, I choose you. I always have and I always will, and I mean it. I am so in love with you; I can’t imagine not being near you or next to you or not touching you- you know it, and we’ve basically done everything but talk about it, while trying to keep the world from knowing, but it’s plain and obvious- I”

 

She kissed him, gently at first, before he responded, running his hands into her messy bun, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She straddled him, and one of his hands slid around her back, pulling her closer. They twisted and pushed at each other, dizzy but desperate. She groaned and broke away, catching her breath. He sat back, leaning against the couch, grinning at her.

 

“You still haven’t let me tell you my plan.” He said, looking up at her.

 

She smirked and began to unbutton his shirt. “Okay then, tell me.”

 

“My lease is up soon, and I want to see my parents - you’re my family too. I figured I’d go for a few weeks, but by October we’ll probably know about upcoming expos, and obviously we’ll need to train and rehearse, so I figured I could move in here... Then there’s the book refresh, and press tour and-”

 

His shirt was on the ground, and she began sucking on his collarbone, kissing his neck, grazing his pants. She started tugging his undershirt upwards, her fingers sliding against his stomach, counting the muscles like she’d done so many times in her head, while he was changing or when he got out of the shower. He grabbed her hands and pulled them up, stopping her progress.

 

She pouted a little.

 

“Not that I don’t love this, but will you please say something?”

 

He let go, and she slid her hands into his hair, and cupped his face, leaning her forehead against his.

 

“You’re my world, Scott Moir. You could live here or in China and you’ll still be my world. We’ll figure it out.”

 

“But you never just figure it out. You plan and we execute and-“

 

“-and I need you and I want you and I choose you. My home is here because you’re here with me, and that’s Montreal right now, but it’s actually wherever you are. We’ll figure it out together. You will always be a part of the plan.”

 

He kissed her again, running his hands up her back and around her waist. Her tongue danced with his, and they couldn’t tell who was breathing or touching or barely what was even happening. His undershirt wound up on the floor, and her sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, their sweatshirt, joined it soon after.

 

He stood and carried her, legs around his waist, into her room. Their room. They’d shared so much time there, sleeping and talking, nights were he should have been sleeping but instead lay there wide awake, wanting to kiss every inch of her body and never leave.

 

She looked up at him, as he unbuttoned his pants and slid them off, climbing on the bed beside her. Every touch was electric, each kiss was like fire, and yet they were the only thing satisfying the burn. They fit each other perfectly, the years molding their bodies and hearts together until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

 

His hands slid beneath the waist of her shorts, and he whispered “I love you” in her ear like he had when they were on the ice. Each time it sent a shock of exhilaration through her body, but this time it nearly caused her heart to stop. His fingers slipped inside of her and the room began to spin.

 

Later, she crossed her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper; he couldn’t get close enough to her, his body couldn’t cover hers enough, she wouldn’t find herself satisfied, if only because she wanted more of him the next day and the next day and the day after that.

 

***

 

Scott moved his clothes and odd pieces of furniture into the apartment the next week. He did spend his time in Ilderton, like he’d wanted to. She joined him for a week in the middle, and they spent time walking and talking and dreaming; he’d kissed her again at his grandmother’s house, sitting on the back porch.

 

They talked that night, like they had, twenty years before. She decided to finish her degree, and then figure out what was next. She’d been approached to collaborate on a few lines of athletic wear, which required travel, but let her work wherever she needed to. Or wanted to.

 

When they weren’t on the road, he worked on building the family business, and they opened a second branch of Moir’s skate shop in Montreal a few years later. Scott inherited his grandparents house in Ilderton, and the two divided their time fairly evenly. At 37 and 39 they began coaching together, under the mentorship of Marie-France and Patch.

 

She knew that they’d likely always feel the pull, his towards a quieter, localized life, hers towards a shinier, busier one. But they always came back to each other, time and time again. It was a lesson they’d learned on the ice long ago-to trust your partner.

 

When things were tough, all it took was a touch or a look and they were home, be it in Ilderton or Japan, or Montreal, or Vancouver- wherever, whenever, and it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither of my fics would have happened without Becca and Erin, who got me into this fandom, and indulge my hardcore crush on Scott. 
> 
> The title is from Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell To Arms:
> 
> We slept when we were tired and if we woke the other one woke too so one was not alone. Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others ..
> 
> Eric and Luis [in fic-land] married at LaToundra in Montreal, and Tessa and Scott wound up at the Miami Deli for late night dinner. Sorry if anyone lives in Montreal and is like, “Um no that would never happen!” 
> 
> Your kudos and reviews made this whole process so much fun. Thanks!


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